


I'm Sorry We Were Late

by words_reign_here



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slice of Life, beginnings of sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 23:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15593283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_reign_here/pseuds/words_reign_here
Summary: Derek's house gets firebombed and Stiles invites him to stay. Stiles doesn't understand and Derek understands a little too well.





	I'm Sorry We Were Late

When Stiles woke up with a strong arm around his chest and another one around his waist, pulling him close into a warm chest, his head perched neatly atop a head of red hair and a heavy weight across his legs, he felt a familiar rise of annoyance in his chest.

He untangled himself from Scott's arms, arranged Lydia so that she was now cradled against his chest, and pulled Isaac up into the warm spot that she had just vacated.

They barely opened their eyes.

Stiles got in the shower and frowned at the array of soaps and conditioners lining the shower and reached for his familiar blue loofah and body soap.

The Hale house had been fire bombed (again) and he invited Derek to stay with him until he could figure out what he wanted to do next. Derek agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and he was now staying in Stiles' guest bedroom.

Stiles figured that his four bedroom, three bathroom house would be room enough for him and Derek and whatever pack member had decided to stay the night.

But what Stiles didn't know was the extent to which Derek let the pack members invade every inch of his entire existence.

Stiles didn't judge. He knew that the Hale pack was clingier than other packs and for damn good reason. And Derek let them cling, never pushed them away, and only encouraged their behavior through subtle gestures of his own. Derek was a warm alpha, ready to give his pack whatever kind of support they needed; financial, physical, or emotional. At pack conventions, which were cleverly disguised as various other gatherings, Stiles had heard it mention more than once how the new Hale Alpha had gone soft.

Their words died down when Allison and Lydia were able to take down twelve wolves by themselves in defense of Derek.

The pack was fiercely defensive of Derek in every manner of ways, Stiles included.

When Stiles clomped down the stairs and found the man himself in front of the stove, his button up shirt hanging from the bar, his matching tie slung over it, while Derek cooked breakfast and sang along to some Top 40 radio station that was playing from a small radio on the window sill above the kitchen sink. The smell of bacon and eggs permeated the air and the coffee was fresh.

"Brandy is a liar," Derek declared.

Stiles looked down at his dog who looked up at him innocently, her large brown eyes pleading with him gently, pulling at his very soul. She was a wire haired schnauzer terrier mutt of some kind. Her ears stood straight up and she was tan and black with a natural mohawk on her head. She also clearly had not been fed breakfast.

"I just fed her breakfast. I put ice in her water bowl and she got both wet and dry food. She's been out. She went for a run with me. She is a liar if she says otherwise," Derek said.

"Liar," Stiles hissed at her.

Brandy sighed and went to pick up her new toy, a gift from Scott, and dragged it under the table where she could make it squeak as she chewed on it.

"The others are spoiling her. Do you know how much the treats cost that Isaac bought her the other day?" Derek went on.

Stiles poured himself coffee and grabbed Derek's mug and poured him some as well.

"Do I want to know?"

"No, you don't, which is why I am going to tell you. Thirty seven dollars, Stiles. _Thirty seven_ ," Derek said and turned with two plates in his hands, toast, ham, eggs, and hash browns piled high.

"How dare he," Stiles said and passed Derek a napkin.

They sat.

It was a familiar routine by now and for some reason it irritated Stiles. He pushed the feeling away, hoping it wasn't clear on his face, grateful for the tattoo that hid his chemosignals from the pack.

"And there is always someone here, it's messing up her kennel time. She needs kennel time, Stiles. It's important for her to learn a routine. It will keep her calm and she'll be able to learn better and adjust to life here," Derek went on. Brandy was the newest addition to Stiles' life, having only been with him a week longer than Derek.

"So, question," Stiles said.

"Hm?"

"Is she your dog or mine? I mean, I don't mean to sound like an asshole, but you seem to be taking the upkeep of my puppy pretty seriously," Stiles said and raised his eyebrows.

Derek pursed his lips and sat back. "At the house, I always had something to do. I had my garden, projects around the house, that sort of thing. I guess now that I don't have that, I am directing my energy and attention to whatever is available."

Underneath the table, Brandy's toy squeaked.

Stiles nodded and considered his words. "And the house hunting and all of that? Does it not direct your attention?"

"I can't get realtors to call me back," Derek muttered and he scowled at his eggs.

"Why?"

"The fact that I have destroyed four houses might have something to do with it."

"That's stupid."

Derek didn't reply.

Brandy squeaked her toy.

"I'll try to get us out of your hair as soon as possible," Derek said and stood up. He swept their plates up and into the dishwasher and started it.

"Take your time. I don't want you to rush into a decision you'll regret later," Stiles said, waving his hand.

Derek studied him for a minute and crossed his arms. He was only wearing a white tank top and when he crossed his arms over his chest, it emphasized his his biceps.

"Going to the gun show?" Stiles asked.

"What's wrong?"

Stiles shook his head.

"Stiles," Derek said and sighed.

"I just. I remember distinctly locking my door last night when I went to bed. And I also remember being alone when I went to bed. And I also remember you and I being the only ones in the house," Stiles said.

The toy squeaked.

"And Brandy."

"Scott has a key. So does Isaac. Actually I think everyone has a key at this point," Derek said with a shrug.

"My room was locked."

"Scott figured out how to climb in through your window the night you moved in."

Stiles fell silent. Derek was clearly missing the point and Stiles didn't have the heart to destroy that look of earnest helpfulness that was new to him.

Derek waited for him to continue but when he didn't, Derek pulled his shirt on and buttoned it up. He tucked it in and tied the tie. He held his hands out. "Am I straight?" He asked.

Stiles snorted and also stood. "Not with your obsession with Ryan Reynolds, no." Stiles fixed his tie. "But that's as close it's gonna get today."

Derek grinned and cupped Stiles's face in his hand, a gesture familiar to the whole pack. "Have a good day. Sell all your books."

And then he was gone.

Underneath the table, the toy squeaked.

_~*~_

It wasn't like they were bad guests. Stiles's house had never been so clean. He had never had so many clean, folded, hung clothes in all his life. He had never had so many home cooked meals.

There were a lot of customers at the store that day and Stiles was grateful for it. His dad came and drank a cup of coffee at the counter and left when Melissa swung by for him. But when he closed up, Stiles noticed that he was hanging around longer than necessary. Finally, he sighed and closed up the store, went to the bank to deposit the money for the day, and headed home.

Just like the same previous six days, there were cars in his driveway and in front of his house, though Stiles's spot was vacant. He held back a sigh and only closed his eyes, concentrated on his heartbeat and got out of the Jeep. When he got out and made his way to the front, the door burst open and Liam leaped out like a giant cat, Brandy on his heels, and tackled Stiles to the ground.

Stiles yelped, unprepared for this, despite it happening for the past six days, every day, when he came home.

Liam took the brunt of the fall and they tumbled over each other and then stopped and Liam pulled him to his feet. Liam hugged him fiercely and ran away, Brandy nipping at his heels, a vain attempt at herding him back into the house where she thought he clearly belonged.

They disappeared around the back of the house.

"I finally caught up on Game of Thrones," Isaac said from the doorway. He took Stiles's bag from his shoulder and slung it over his own. "Just when you thought Joffrey's death was satisfying..." He shook his head and hung up the bag on the hook next to the door and threw Stiles's keys into the bowl below it. They made their way to the kitchen.

"Stiles is the deciding vote," Erica declared, her hands on her hips.

"On?" Stiles asked, looking from one side of the kitchen where Allison, Derek, and Boyd stood, to the other where Scott, Isaac, and Liam stood. Erica stood between the two groups, nearest to the stove. Liam must have come in through the backdoor. Boyd put a hand on Stiles's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. Behind him, Lydia passed by on her way to his office and slid her fingers across his back as a silent greeting.

Underneath the table, a toy squeaked.

"Scalloped or mashed potatoes."

"Oh, mashed. For sure," Stiles said.

Derek, Allison, and Boyd groaned and Scott shot him a look of victory. As she passed, Allison kissed his cheek, so he figured he wasn't in too much trouble.

Erica turned back to the stove.

Stiles escaped upstairs and jumped into the shower. The amount of shampoo and conditioner and, as Stiles studied a bottle, exfoliation concoctions seemed to have tripled since his first visit that morning. As soon as he began to shift through all the unknown shampoo bottles on the shelf, since it seemed like his had disappeared, he heard the door opened.

Stiles bit back a growl.

"I talked to Theo today," Scott said.

"Why? Why would you ever do that? Why does anyone ever do that?" Stiles asked.

"He came by the farm. He has a ferret now-"

"Figures," Stiles muttered.

"And he talked to Kira out in New Mexico."

"Oh yeah?" Mention of Kira always brightened Stiles's mood. "How is she?"

"Good! She's been working really hard and might come back around Christmas. Her parents are in New York though so she might need a place to stay. I told her the farm has extra bedrooms," Scott said.

The only reason that they didn't stay at Scott's farm/vet clinic was because the cows and chickens he had there couldn't stand to be around more than a few predators. Scott and maybe two other wolves. If they tried to push their luck, the cows often stampeded.

"That'll be nice," Stiles said, trying to wrap up the conversation in the hopes that he might still maintain a moment of silence in the shower since he hadn't had any dignity since the first time Derek had casually walked in on him showering and started shaving while Stiles hid behind the opaque wall of his shower, panicking.

"Theo is looking for a pack," Scott finally said and heaved a sigh.

Stiles inhaled some of the soap he was smelling and water.

"I told him that I didn't have any decision over the matter. I told him to talk to Derek," Scott said.

"What did Derek say?" Stiles asked, coughing and heaving in another mouthful water.

"I told him that I would have to talk it over with the rest of you guys," Derek said. "And that it might be a matter of convincing you and Lydia."

Stiles wanted to be surprised that Derek was in there with him but he wasn't.

"I said that if he wants to join the pack that he does so under an extremely probationary period and under our terms. And I mean yours and mine, Stiles," Lydia said.

"I think we should sedate him, put him a big box, and ship him to China," Liam said.

"I like Liam's idea. Where is my body soap?" Stiles asked. He looked at the shelf that once held his lone bottle of combination shampoo and body soap and wanted to cry when he saw that it was overflowing with bottles, some of which wasn’t even written in English.

"That stuff is no good for your skin. Use the clear bottle with the green stuff in it. Dad has it shipped in from Spain for me," Allison said.

"It smells better to us too. It doesn't make you smell like chemicals. You'll smell like Allison. Like a field full of flowers from Spain," Isaac said and sighed.

Stiles poured some into his hand and lathered his hair, pulling it into a mohawk automatically. He thought about it. Theo had been some help in the past and he had connections outside of Beacon Hills and they could use someone who wasn't above doing the dirty work since Peter had left town-

"I don't know," he finally sighed. He stuck his head around the corner of his walk in shower to see _everyone_ gathered in his bathroom. "He could be lying to us. Again. And I might have to kill him this time."

"That probably would be more threatening if you didn't have a soapy mohawk," Derek said thoughtfully.

"I am very threatening, even with a soapy mohawk!"

Derek shrugged.

Stiles glared at the group of them and other than Erica's mouth twitching, there was nothing to give away the ridiculousness of this situation.

"Is this what it was like for you, growing up? Everyone invading your personal space at all times?" Stiles demanded of Derek.

"Yes."

Stiles glared once more and ducked back into the water. He rinsed out his hair and thought of Derek humming songs in front of his kitchen window and how the edges of his tattoo peeked out from underneath his tank top-

Stiles froze.

"What is it?" Derek asked.

"If he lets me put a tattoo on him, of my own design, with my own ink, and Lydia draws up the terms of our agreement, number one being that he does not get to kill anyone without at least three pack member's approval, then he's in. On a probationary status," Stiles said.

"Why your tattoo? Your ink?" Boyd asked.

"I can trace him, track him, and tether him. If he puts one paw out of line, it'll be a world of pain and terror for him," Stiles said.

There was a pause and Stiles imagined everyone looking to Derek. He looked around the wall to see everyone doing just that.

"I like it. Lydia?" Derek said.

Lydia sighed and she looked to Stiles. "If he tries anything-"

"I'll save you a piece," he promised.

They all finally left, but by then, the water had gone cold and Stiles was ready to get out.

~*~

Dinner was loud and delicious, thanks to Erica. She had picked up cooking as a hobby and they had all benefited from it. Even Derek packed on a few pounds in the ensuing months. Isaac and Boyd cleaned up and Lydia went home, supposedly for the night. The others left as well but Stiles no longer trusted that they were gone for the night.

He considered lining his window sill with mountain ash and locking his door but if they brought Lydia with them like they did the previous night, it would have been pointless.

That night, Stiles didn't even lock his door.

~*~

When Stiles woke up, there were one slender arm wrapped around his chest, red hair under his chin again, and blonde hair strewn across his chest.

"It's like being cuddled by the PowerPuff Girls," Stiles said out loud.

Someone who was walking past his room snorted and laughed. He thought it was Derek.

Once more, Stiles untangled himself, this time from Allison, and scooted Erica up to his place. Attracted by her natural warmth, the other two cuddled in further.

Stiles showered and headed downstairs once again.

Derek was at the stove and Brandy stared up at him imploringly.

"She lies," Derek informed Stiles.

The only difference between today and the day before were the clothes that they wore. That reassured Stiles that he wasn't caught in a time loop again.

"She got a sticker in her paw this morning when we were running. You would have thought it was the end of the world," Derek said over his shoulder.

"Are you saying my dog is dramatic? How dare you, sir."

Stiles went to the coffee pot and poured them their coffee and met Derek at the table.

Underneath the table, a toy squeaked.

"I'll talk to Theo today," Derek said.

"My terms are non-negotiable," Stiles said.

"That's fine."

The rest of breakfast was silent and Stiles stood to straighten out Derek's tie again.

Derek cupped his face and smiled. "Have a good day."

And then he was gone.

~*~

After work, Stiles didn't head home. Instead he found himself turning down the road to the Hale house and getting out at the original site. It was all grass and wildflowers now and the only thing that remained was a bench with the names of those that had died. It was dark and getting darker and instead of looking around, Stiles went straight over to the bench and sat.

He let out a long sigh and stretched his legs.

The silence was thick and went on forever. If he stayed here, he could imagine that it went on like this forever and ever. He could feel himself relax and he felt his shoulders fall from their position that he had kept them in for the past several days.

His life hadn't been spent alone but if he was being honest with himself and the graves of the Hale family, he had been alone more often than not. And while there was something to be said about the connection of the pack life, sometimes he longed for a moment of solitude. Just a moment when he could be alone and not have to worry about someone sneaking into his bed or into the bathroom while he showered or peed or cuddling into his chest while he attempted to rewatch Buffy.

Stiles would be a liar if he said that growing up, he hadn't been lonely. Of course he had. But he had learned to welcome being alone because that’s what had been such a prominent part of his life more often than not. There were less distractions, no one to mock him when he muttered something out loud that had nothing to do with the current conversation. There were advantages to being alone and sometimes Stiles needed that in a way that no one else in the pack did.

And for fuck's sake, he needed some personal fucking space.

The pack constantly _touched_. And yeah, it had been nice in the beginning, but now, even Scott touching his arm could set his teeth on edge. His father and him had always been huggers and so it wasn't completely weird, but now.

Now.

Now he was dealing with Boyd squeezing his shoulder, Isaac cuddling whenever he sat on the couch for longer than three minutes, Derek's _hands_ , Scott pulling him into a hug every time Stiles entered a room, Erica kissing him, actually Erica/Allison/Lydia kissing him and sneaking into his bed and replacing his shampoo and buying him a better toothbrush and cleaning up after him like he was completely unable to do it, like he was still a child-

Stiles took a deep breath and held back the urge to scream because that would bring the whole pack running and that was the last thing he wanted.

The very last thing.

Behind him, a twig broke.

"In my defense, I wasn't looking for you," Derek said.

Stiles felt his shoulders tighten.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked, unable to keep the venom out of his voice.

"It's my dad's birthday," Derek said and gestured to the bench. He was coming up behind Stiles but stopped further back. He was still in the shadows.

Stiles felt like an ass.

"I'll go," he said and stood.

"You don't have to. I just came to-" Derek waved his hand at the field of flowers doused in moonlight.

"Don't do that," Stiles said, rubbing his eyes. They felt gritty, like he hadn't slept the night before. But he had. He had slept so deeply that three beautiful women crept into his bed and cuddled him and he didn't even know it. Two of them had even changed in his room, since they were wearing his shirts when he woke up. "This is yours, take it." He collapsed back on the bench despite his words.

"It's not mine. It's theirs. Maybe not even that since they are gone now," Derek said. He walked around the bench so that the tips of his boots touched the edge of the flowers but no further. He had his back to Stiles and all Stiles could see was his broad back and the light green t-shirt and jeans he wore. "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

"Nothing is bothering me."

"So not yet, then."

"I just said that nothing is bothering me."

"You just lied to me."

Stiles fell silent but he felt his heartbeat ratchet up. He could feel the rage start to build in him and it made no sense, no sense whatsoever that this kind of thing was making him angry.

What kind of fuck up got pissed at someone being _kind_ to them? At showing a person nothing but honesty and goodness and loyalty?

"Then let me lie, Derek. Let me have something, some piece of what I am, of what I used to be. I can't give you everything," Stiles snapped.

"I don't want everything," Derek said quietly and ran his hand over the top of the flowers and the tall grass and it rippled in his wake, like everything did where Derek was concerned.

"You do! And so do they! I don't get even the smallest little piece of myself anymore. Not my bed, not my shower, and it doesn't have anything to do with you living there, so don't pull that poor pitiful werewolf act, because all of this anger is wrapped up in gratitude towards you!"

"It's weird, isn't it?" Derek asked. Stiles thought he nodded like he agreed with him, that of course Stiles was angry, it made perfect sense. "How you can need people and want them to get the fuck away from you all at the same time."

"I didn't _ask_ for this. I wanted to graduate and go to college and get a job and move on from Beacon Hills," Stiles argued and it was like they weren't even having the same conversation anymore.

"You know what I used to think of it like? Like when my parents and cousins and siblings all crowded me but because they loved me, I used to think that it was like you would do anything to feel something, but it was all soft and gentle but you want real, right? Because we all know that the world isn't soft or gentle," Derek went on.

"But instead, I stayed here because you came back and because Scott was here and because I thought he would do something stupid with Liam and get both of them killed," Stiles raged.

"This is all real though. And maybe you're right. Maybe it's not something you wanted. Maybe this isn't how you thought your life would end up. I'm sure you wanted more than your bookstore and more than us and more than Beacon Hills but maybe it wasn't what you earned," Derek said softly and waved his hand over the flowers again.

They rippled in the moonlight and it was like watching the ocean dance underneath the moon. It was too surreal, too beautiful and Stiles had to look away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stiles asked, his voice hoarse.

"I like to think of my life as a story that someone else is telling. Kid, seduced by an older woman, family killed, sister killed, crazy uncle, you know the whole deal. You have a starring role in it," Derek glanced over his shoulder.

Stiles didn't know how to answer that.

"I think that kid, the one who was forced to kill his first girlfriend, the one who felt his family die, the one who was tortured within an inch of his life over and over again, the one who lost and kept losing for so long that it's a wonder that he even kept going-" Derek paused and looked to the flowers again. "I think he earned his happy ending. I think he earned a stable pack, good relations with the people around him, good friends, a full belly, a job that pays way too well for what he needs, and a bunch of family that he never knew he needed more than anything else. Don't you think he earned that?"

There was an earnestness to Derek's voice that made Stiles nod.

Of course that kid had earned that. That kid and that man had done more than enough to earn that.

"So what about the kid that was with his mom till the very last days of his life, the one with an alcoholic father, the one who was teased and bullied relentlessly, the kid that wanted nothing more than to belong to someone, something, that he played on a team that never let him on the field, what about that kid?" Derek asked.

"Don't-" Stiles started.

"The kid who sacrificed everything, his own sanity, his own life, for people that weren't always the best to him or even for him, the kid who wanted to get away from it all only to get sucked deeper and deeper into it-"

"Derek-"

"Doesn't he get what he earned? Didn't he give enough to get the family he wanted as a kid?" Derek asked.

His words took the anger out of Stiles like sails drooping without any wind.

"That isn't fair," Stiles whispered. He felt like he was being choked from the inside out.

Derek shrugged. "I think humans have a weird concept of _fair._ But maybe it's what you earned."

"A family isn't earned-"

"It is. It is through hard work. They should all hate me for what I did. You should too. But you don't and I don't know why half the time," Derek spun on his heels and knelt in front of Stiles. "Sometimes it's like I want them to challenge me, to try and fight me, to take back their lives from me because god knows I'm not qualified to be the one to be in charge. I want them to put their hands around my neck," Derek took Stiles's hands and put them around his throat, "And I want them to end it. I want them to realize that I am not the leader that they think I am."

"That's not- you aren't that person anymore," Stiles said.

"And you aren't the little kid who is all alone. We are here to take care of you so that it doesn’t collapse down on top of you. We’re here so that you don’t feel loneliness pressing down on you like a weight that’s going to suffocate you. And yeah, you’re right. Maybe we suffocate you in other ways. Maybe we lack the complete and total inability to know where we end and you start, but remember that kid that was holding his mom’s hand when she took her last breath?“

Stiles shook his head, hard, like he didn’t remember every second of those last moments he spent with his mom and the time after he had spent with his head on her bed, praying that she would take just one more breath and waiting for his dad to come in, to soothe him, but instead he got Melissa, gently pulling him away.

“Shouldn’t someone have been there for him?” Derek asked.

Stiles’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry we were late,” Derek said and cradled Stiles’s head and made him look Derek in the eye. “I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you. I’m sorry we didn’t see you when you were drowning. But we see you now. I see you. And I won’t let you drown and I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

Stiles hung his head and Derek shifted over to his side. He held Stiles’s hand for a long moment before he asked, “Do you want to go home?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said.

_~*~_

When Stiles woke up he had his head on a familiar white tank top and a strong arm pulling him in close. Derek was scrolling through his phone, reading an article. _  
_

“I sent them home. Scott was sad and Liam was a little resentful but Erica promised him cupcakes. Allison said that you should exfoliate today,” Derek said.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“But I did.”

Stiles closed his eyes and drifted for awhile longer and when he finally woke up, Derek was gone.

Stiles pulled on some loose pants and a shirt which, after closer inspection, Stiles realized was the light green one Derek wore the night before.

When he got downstairs, Brandy looked up at him and didn’t even try to use the soul pleading look on him. Instead she got her newest toy, another gift from Scott, and pulled it under the table. It was bigger than her.

Stiles poured the coffee, brought it to the table, and Derek met him there with blueberry pancakes.

Underneath the table, the toy squeaked.


End file.
